


Blue nights Brown eyes

by Neutralfan



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, And one more for implied violent death, Blood Raven - Freeform, Bran Stark is King in the North, Dreams, F/M, Fix It, Getting Together, King Jon Snow, Kissing, No Beta, Queen Daenerys, Ramsey Boltons dog, Slight Cannon, The hound mentioned, Three eyed raven - Freeform, Wargs, a dog - Freeform, cannon what cannon, rated m for opening scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 20:49:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18924760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neutralfan/pseuds/Neutralfan
Summary: This is my response to the last season of Game of Thrones:I REJECT YOUR REALITY AND SUBSTITUTE MY OWN!~ Adam SavageThis is a Bran and Meera get together, Arya and Gendry get together, Sansa gets all the lemon cakes she wants, and what I would have done with "Robo" Bran.





	Blue nights Brown eyes

**Author's Note:**

> So this is un-betaed. I've been sitting on this idea since season seven when they introduced "emotionally constipated Bran tm". I waited to see if maybe they would do something with that, but nah let's make him a plot device that we only wheel out when we need to. *Takes a deep breath* (Cue sunshine and rainbows)   
>  I hope this succeeds in scratching that Bran/Meera itch for "Slightly in cannon but not in cannon" fiction. Any mistakes are my own. 
> 
>  
> 
> (Ok so there is a death, of a minor character.)

It was muggy out as Meera walked through the marshland of her home. She didn’t quite know what had drawn her out today but it was so bright out and she just couldn’t resist getting out of the keep for a while. When she’d returned home there had been a celebration as her father Howland had been starting to wonder if she ever would, despite her brother's assurances.

Meera picked up her pace at the thought as if speeding along would banish the pain. Her feet familiar with the ground she had traveled since she was a child. She walked until she reached a pond where she had spent many days playing in and around as a child. She’d learned to swim here, learned to hunt frogs, tried to teach Jojen as well until he managed to spear her instead. 

It was unbearably hot now and she was wearing the heavy winter clothes she’d worn ever since her travels had taken her north of the wall. They were unsuited for the hot weather and would make her sick if she continued to wear them in this heat. A quick glance around told her she was alone before her fingers started to unlace the leathers holding the clothes together. She slowly, reverently removed each item of clothing until she was in nothing but her small clothes. It was then as she added the last item that she felt able to breathe for the first time in ages. She dipped her foot into the water, it was cool but not cold just right for a swim. A smile pulled at her lips as she indulged in the idea before slipping the rest of her clothes off and jumped in. 

The water felt even better now that all of her was in it. Like an old friend giving an embrace after a long time of separation. Meera resurfaced and pushed the water from her eyes taking a deep breath. The sun had seemed to have ducked behind the clouds as the light seemed dimmed ever so slightly now, but she felt no fear and continued swimming for a while until she heard a snap. Whipping her head around thinking that maybe one of her cousins had found her she was startled at who was sitting on the bank of the pond. Bran.

He was a vision to be sure one that she’d never thought she’d see again after he’d sent her away so coldly. His shoulders were bare as was the rest of what she could see of him, she could feel a blush rising in her face. It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought of him in such a manor before, indeed there were times where she wondered if there could be something between them, something they could build a future on. A few times she’d even entertained the outlandish notion of kissing him. But she’d never given thought as to what he’d look like underneath all his clothes. 

He smiled at her before to her surprise he slipped into the pond to join her. She hadn’t known he could swim. He reached her quickly, she supposed his long arms had something to do with that and to her further astonishment, stood in front of her. 

“Bran, how are you here, and standing?” 

He smiled again, “you didn’t think I’d always be stuck depending on you did you?” 

“No, of course not.” She stammered looking away, just before she remembered not to look down. “I’m just surprised that you-“ 

He cut her off with a finger to her lips, when he had gotten so close she wasn’t sure, but a small gasp left her as his cool fingers curled around her jaw. He was so close now. 

“Let’s not talk about that.” His voice just barely above a whisper as he drew closer. He was a good head and a half taller than she and he looked over her. His blue eyes seeming to bore into her soul. 

Her brow furrowed, wondering when he’d learned to do that before he leaned down molding his lips to hers. Her breath quickened as the kiss continued slowly deepening. When had he learned this art she didn’t know, he certainly hadn’t been kissing her. His other arm slipped around her torso holding her without bringing her closer to him. As if giving her a choice to reject him or come closer. She moved her arms to wrap them around his neck, to further explore this new intimacy with him. As she was about to touch his neck though, the arm around her waist pulled her back and the hand that Bran still had on her jaw moved as his lips left hers covering her mouth and pushing her backward holding her under the water. 

Her lungs tried to take in air at the sudden change but couldn’t. The water around her felt cold, having changed from the old friend she once knew to a vile enemy. Her eyes looked up in horror her vision of the man above distorted she could almost swear he was grinning down at her his cold blue eyes delighting in her struggle. 

“Meera!” Bran yelled, as was drowning. She couldn't breathe. He was killing her and he was enjoying it. She closed her eyes she didn’t want to see the face that was looming over her taunting her in her failure. 

“Meera! Love you have to wake up!” 

She opened her eyes. 

(#) 

She gasped air filling her lungs as they heaved for the sweetness of it. 

Then she feels someone’s hands on her and she reacts before she can think. Striking out at the sturdy frame that is attached to them. 

“Meera, Meera calm down you’re safe you’re home.” A gentle feminine voice said. Meera looked towards the voice to see the dimly lit face of her lady mother. Jianna Reed was a near spitting image of her daughter, the vision of what she would look like in years to come. 

“He, he tried to drown me.” Meera gasped out stopping her assault allowing the arms of her father to wrap around her in a firm grip. She had been home barely a moon now and every night she’d been assaulted with horror-filled nightmares. Ranging from Jojen's death to the horrors she’d seen beyond the wall, this had been the first time she’d seen Bran in one of her dreams though. 

“Who tried to kill you?” Her father’s baritone voice intoned softly. 

“Bran.” She chokes out as hot tears started to fall from her green eyes. She missed the look that crossed her mother’s face and the similar one that her fathers had. 

She could only focus on the dream, she was terrified, it had all felt real. As if his touch was ice as he plunged her down. She shuddered at the memory of his piercing blue eyes. 

Why? She hadn’t done any wrong to him. In fact, she had done nothing but help him, she’d provided for and carried him north of the wall and back. Why would he return her loyalty with death? 

 

“Meera dear it’s over now it was just a dream.” Her mother placated, rubbing her arm as she did the same as every other night she’d woken from her mares. She felt her father’s arms tighten around her before relaxing. 

“I can’t.” She whispered.

“I’ll stay with her, you go back to bed Anna.” She heard her father say before her mother leaned over and kissed her forehead and left. Her father said nothing he just held her close. Many moments passed before she was calm enough to start thinking, trying not to dwell on the more carnal points of the dream, it only made the betrayal hurt more. Her eyes roamed around her room as if searching for something. 

The room was hers from childhood dimly lit by the fire that roared in the hearth it hadn’t changed in the hours since she’d retired for the evening. Her boots laid near the fireplace various other items were scattered about, her cloak was laid across the writing desk chair her hunting knives laid out across the top of the desk. Though she could not see it from here she knew that there was something she needed atop the desk, a dagger made from Valyrian steel and embedded with dragon glass down its center that had been gifted to her by Bran’s Uncle before he’d left them. 

She gently broke her father’s embrace climbing off the bed when he didn’t protest and walking over to the desk. She hadn’t used the dagger, not ever. She hadn’t needed to. She picked it up and unsheathed it the blue glass glittering in the firelight dancing on her fingers. 

“What do you have there?” Her father asked, bring back memories of when she been small, exploring the world around her home. Every time she’d bring something home be it a creature, a plant, or the odd person she’d managed to pull out of a bog, his response was always the same. 

“A Dagger.” She said, holding it up so he could see it over her shoulder. Her eyes lingering on where the blue glass and silver steel met the brown hilt. 

Bran's eyes were brown. 

 

(#) 

A week passed, she barely slept only allowing herself to doze off at most, nothing felt right anymore. The marshland that she knew so well and had played in relative safety as a child now felt sinister in nature. She was constantly looking over her shoulder if she went out, she felt trapped as if her fate was sealed, she could either die out there or within her home. It mattered not to whatever was pursuing her.   
After a week Howland took her aside, he took her to a place that she had never been allowed to go, a small cave-like area within the Neck, it was used for meetings among the lords of the Neck rather than have them meet within a keep or the forest it was a hard to reach place. Her father had brought Jojen there often baring her from attending. It had upset her, but her mother had explained that it was important that she stay away from the place. But never gave a real reason beyond, ‘your father said so’. 

It was more than a cave, she realized upon entering, it was more of a rock dome hut, it was huge inside the floor having been worn smooth by the years of use. It was also naturally warm in comparison to the outside. It was not much different from the tree that she and Bran had stayed under during their time with Blood Raven.

“This,” her father said, “is a special place. A place where the trees cannot see, the only one in the North left all the others were destroyed ages ago when the Targaryens came and took the North for themselves. Not knowing their importance to the lords of the North, for meeting and planning, instead, they allowed for the plans to be aired out in the open where anyone could hear them, and manipulate the intentions of good men for their own evil doings.” He gave her a pointed look. 

“You’ve seen something similar I think.” 

“Yes.” She said simply, too tired from the journey and lack of sleep, tuning in a full circle to take everything in.

“We, our ancestors, have always been aware of wargs, and seers, the Reeds specifically have always had a deep connection to the powers of the Earth and the Children. You know this, of course, I know you listened at the door when I was teaching-” he cut off still unable to say his son’s name. He took a deep breath. 

“He told me, how he would die, I didn’t believe him, I didn’t want to thought he had misinterpreted it. He told me here, unlike when he had his other visions, he told me that our oath to the Starks was imperative and that in time a Reed would have to strike down the last of the Ravens in order for all to flourish.” 

Meera frowned at that turning back to her Father standing across the room.   
“I don’t understand, there are many ravens still.” 

Howland smiled, it was grim and accentuated the lines of his face, “Not the bird, the person.” 

Raven. The three-eyed raven. Her eyes widened as she connected the dots. But surely he didn’t mean Bran, why would Jojen want their father to kill Bran? When she voiced this question to him Howland’s face saddened. 

“My sweet one,” he said coming to her slowly wrapping her in his arms, giving her plenty of time to pull away as she was still jumpy from her dream. “Why do you think the Raven was trying to drown you?” 

It was slow, the ice as it crept into her gut and quickly spread up her spine. She jerked her head up to look at her Father. His eyes were soft, they always were with her, the only time she had ever seen them harden in her direction had been after she’d nearly gotten herself killed trying to practice with a broadsword that was longer than she was tall. Her breath caught in her chest freezing in a way that it never had North of the wall. 

“I can’t.” She whispered. 

“You can, I didn’t raise a weak child nor a stupid one.” He said. 

“But I- I’m a girl.” She said lamely, that had always been what had barred her from most things. 

“No, you’re a woman, full of caring and love for yourself, your people, and heritage. The only kind of daughter that I would raise,” he paused, “I know this will be hard for you.” 

She pushed away from him stalking off, tears threatening to fall, “You have no idea how I feel.” Anger laced her words, she didn’t want this, if her brother had been standing there she may have hit him. Expecting her to kill someone she cared for? How could they? 

“Meera-” 

“Don’t, I can’t believe he allowed me to get close to Bran, he encouraged it even and he KNEW that I would have to kill him? For what? To stop the army of the dead? To free the North from its oppressors? Tell me why I should bother!” She screamed at her father. 

He didn’t move from his spot, “Jojen told me, that the Raven had been meddling in the affairs of the world for ages, had hidden away so that it would be near impossible to reach him. That only two would be able to get close, the Night King, and you. He said that winter must come and that the long night must be won before the Raven could be removed from its nest. It has to think it’s won at last.” He paused looking thoughtful. 

Meera didn’t want to look at her Father, she was processing all the information, had he just been referring to Blood Raven? Or was Bran now included in this mess, seeing as he had referred to himself as the Three-eyed raven since Blood Raven had died when the Night King had attacked them? Benjen Stark had even been acting oddly around the younger Stark as he took them to the wall, giving Meera the dagger during a point of their journey when Bran had been awake and alert rather than dreaming. Had Benjen known, what his nephew was, what she would have to do? That she would have to strike the raven, which in turn would kill his own blood. Her heart was heavy as she tried to come to terms with this new burden. When Howland spoke again, though much softer this time.

“Jojen told me many things, but he never once referred to young Lord Stark as a raven, only a winged wolf.” 

Air filled her lungs again.

(#) 

When they returned to the keep they found a messenger with a sealed letter for Howland, the message had come through their neighbors outside the Neck, sending it on via human as the Ravens could never find Greywater watch. father wondered if that was a coincidence as her Father opened the missive. 

“It seems I’m being summoned to Winterfell,” he said after reading it. He locked eyes with Meera for a brief moment. “Looks like I’ll have to make the trip.” 

Preparations were made but Meera found it odd that her father never once asked if she wanted or needed to go with him. It was as if he was planning on leaving her behind. And she assumed that was what he was doing. Until after the feast they had the night before he was to leave. Greywater wasn’t as large as some of the other castles and keeps Meera had seen in her time away, indeed now that she had returned it seemed small. But what it lacked for in size it made up for in stairs. You couldn’t go ten feet without some type of stairs. Howland blamed them on one of their ancestors who must have been drunk. A state he wished he’d been in when he turned to say something to the steward before heading up to bed for the night, which caused him to fall and land on his leg with a sickening crack.

He was in tremendous pain as the healer was summoned to look at his leg, doing his best to keep composure. After they had managed to ease the pain some and given orders for him not to leave his bed, Howland called for Meera. 

“Meera,” he said, through gritted teeth, “you’ll need to make the trip for me, I can’t not like this.” He then slipped his signet ring off and handed it to her, the ring that every male in her family had worn at some point, be it as the lord of Greywater watch or as the emissary of the lord. The significance was not lost on her, by doing this he was stating that she was as good as his heir and should be treated thus. 

Meera took his hand, “I’ll serve you well Father.” 

(#) 

Arya Stark was tired. She had managed to slay the Knight King a fortnight ago, but it should have been just moments ago for all the exhaustion she felt. But that wasn’t why she was tired. She had been plagued with nightmares ever since the battle, dreams that didn’t seem to be her own, they were always the same. It didn’t matter if they were about her childhood, wrapped up in the safety of her mother’s arms, or shooting arrows in the yard with her younger brothers, or even reliving the horrors of her life after her lord father’s death. No, she always ended up at the same tree with the same pond. The very one she was stood in front of now looking down at the black water. Only her reflection was staring back at her, unlike her dream. In it, a set of brown eyes that were not her own stared back from beneath the water begging her to reach down and help them to safety. She was always pulled under when she moved to help them, her lungs filling up with water slowly seeing visions of places she’d never been, of people long since dead. 

Until she heard Bran screaming, screaming for her to swim, to wake. She did but it was always close. 

She couldn’t make heads or tails of it, she thought of asking Bran about the dreams but when she tried to broach the topic, something stopped her. A gut feeling. 

So she suffered in silence. Keeping out of the way as people got ready to march South to take on Circi, she didn’t know if she still wanted to go with, again it was a gut feeling that there was something wanting her to stay at Winterfell. 

The Hound also seemed to think that she should stay, to give up her list, “There are enough dead, you don’t need to go adding yourself to them.” 

She had argued that she wouldn’t die, to which he replied, “Maybe not physically, but that last piece of the girl I helped escape will.” 

It wasn’t just him either, Bran was acting odd as well. Smug almost, her brother also was adding fuel to the fire where Daenerys was concerned stating that given time she too would go mad just as her father did, and something should be done to stop her before it came to that. 

That was a far cry from her little brother, the boy she knew would have never wanted to kill someone based on reputation, that was more her vein. She had approached Sansa about it, but she had said that Bran was no longer the little boy they’d known he’d grown up much like that had, and was acting in accordance to his life experience. But this only served to make her question what types of horrors her brother had seen to cause him to become so vicious and cruel in his dealings. 

Then there was the incident from that morning when Lady Meera Reed showed up in place of her Lord Father, the latter had taken a fall and seriously injured himself and had been unable to make the journey sending her in his place the minor houses signet ring on her hand. 

There was nothing that could be done but instead of asking after Lord Reeds health or any other forms of political politeness Bran had reacted as if he’d been physically attacked by Lady Reed. Sansa had saved the interaction, but even she agreed with Arya that Bran’s behavior was off. Though it could be that Lady Reed had been one of the people to keep him safe during his time away from Winterfell and they had a falling out when he returned. 

She sighed there wasn’t much she could do about it, other than slap the near man upside the head. Which was probably more trouble than it was worth. She slowly walked back to the keep still mulling over things when she spied Gendry. 

He was working on something and looking generally tick off about something. Probably her rejection of him though she wasn’t some high lady who’s hand was in hot perusal. She was just Arya. He seems to have missed that. She’d let him stew over it for a while yet. Perhaps she’d change her mind at the last minute and stay at Winterfell to keep him off balance. Keep him guessing. 

Her thoughts were intruded by a sound though, a vicious one, turning towards the gates she saw a dog race in snarling and growling as it came barreling through. Instinctively Arya drew needle and positioned herself between the dog and Gendry, hoping he didn’t notice. Only for the dog to suddenly stop and round back the way it had come. Puzzled she watched its progress, a laugh reached her ears though prompting her to turn towards the sound. She hand the heard Gendry laugh in a long time. 

“It seems that even the dogs have heard of your ferocity m’lady.” He said with a laugh. 

Arya, if she’d been less mature, would have stuck her tongue out at him before walking away, but she was far too struck with the odd behavior of the animal to really respond him, other than to just walk away. She’d deal with him later, after dark, hopefully with less clothing. 

(#) 

Meera knew that her reappearance within Winterfell’s walls wouldn’t be a warm one but she hadn’t been expecting to be completely ignored. Thus far everyone but the Lord of Winterfell had acknowledged her presence. But she had a feeling she knew why. She needed time though, trying to figure out how to best strike the Raven while still leaving Bran as intact as he ever was. 

Her journey had been long and tiring, her father had been right even if he’d come himself on his broken leg it would have been the end of him. She was looking forward to sleeping until she realized that she was most likely in the Raven’s lair and that any dream was to be suspect. 

Still, she managed to find sleep. This time she was wandering through a wood, snow littering the ground with no patches of the visible ground beneath her feet. She cautiously walked on, not sure what she would find until she found it. 

Standing with their back to her, was Lady Arya a fine dusting of frozen snow covering her, not unlike the wights she’d seen. Meera clutched the dagger on her belt as she drew closer. 

“She’s not going to hurt you.” Said a male voice, Meera whipped around to see Bran, fully dressed this time. She drew the dagger, not taking any chances, he didn’t approach.

“He’s sleeping, I’m only able to come out then but my range is limited, I’ve been trapped in Arya’s dreams most nights. The things she’s suffered are not things I would want anyone to go through.” His brown eyes locked with her green. 

“I can’t stop him, I’ve tried I’m not strong enough on my own.” He was pleading with her. 

“He knows why I’m here.” She said, gaze narrowing. 

“Yes, and no. He’s suspicious but he can’t actually read minds, he can only make an educated guess and act off of that.” Bran looked sheepish, “He knew that I would yearn to be useful, that I would want to be able to do more than just sit around, to have a purpose. So he gave me the opening to become powerful. No warg should have the power he does, it corrupts.” Bran paused and his face saddened. 

“I fell into his trap, and in the process lost something important. I lost myself. I- I hope you can forgive me.” The last was a mere whisper, yet she heard it as clearly as if he’d shouted it. 

“He’s going to prey on your feelings, he thinks that your ability to care will override your ability to take him down.”His face turned earnest. 

“Whatever happens Meera, don’t hesitate, just do what you have to, even if it means killing me.” 

Meera took a deep breath the air was freezing, she steeled herself and closed her eyes as she heard a dog bark. 

She’d had the tools before, now she had Bran’s blessing, even if she couldn’t figure out how to save him he was fine with that. She could go through with this. 

(#) 

Meera opened her eyes and sat up. She had a rough idea of what to do now. She grabbed the dagger from under her pillow and slipped into the hallway. Making her way to where she’d last known Bran’s room to be. As she came close she saw Lady Arya holding onto a dog that was obviously fighting her, a young man was helping her hold it. 

“Stupid dog, how’d it get in here?” The man asked. 

“Don’t know, maybe-” Arya catching sight of Meera trailed off, taking in her appearance eyes locking onto the dagger. 

“Lady Reed?” 

“Lady Stark,” Meera hesitated for a second, “Would you hold this for me.” She held out the dagger waiting for Arya to take it. Only continuing after she had. 

“Your brother expressed the wish to speak with me.” She said, placing her hand on the doorknob, Arya gave a nod before returning her attention to the mut dagger in hand. 

The room she entered was much the same as when she’d last been there. Bran’s body was laying in the rooms only bed, tucked under the layers of furs required for winter. Gathering her courage she walked up to the side of the bed carefully she climbed onto the side of it. Straddling his torso so that his arms were pinned beneath her. Looking down at the peacefully sleeping face before she reached for his neck. 

(#) 

Arya knew something was going on when Bran had asked her if she would stand guard at his door that night, much to her displeasure. But he was her little brother and she had been protecting him since they were small, every flower covered prankster and ice covered King should tremble if they tried to mess with her brother. 

What she didn’t expect was for Gendry to come down the hallway chasing the stupid dog from earlier that day. Then to add to the madness, Lady Reed came just seconds after, she seemed a woman on a mission, a determined look on her face that Arya had seen in herself. The dagger had given her pause, but when it was offered to her, all her worries were dismissed. 

Then the dog stilled, it was only for a second before it started seizing before it took off running Gendry taking off after it. Arya stayed in place, knowing that the dog couldn’t go far as the gates were shut for the night. 

The door to her brother’s chamber then burst opened and Lady Reed rushed out looking wildly about, “Where’s the dog?” She asked breathlessly. 

“It ran off.” 

 

“Shoot.” She then snatched the dagger out of Arya’s hand, “If it comes back don’t let it near him.” she said before running off in the general direction that Gendry had gone. Leaving Arya standing puzzled after her. The door was still open she pushed it a bit more and entered. 

Bran was laying on his side, his shoulders heaving violently as if he’d just been held underwater. She rushed to him. 

“Bran, what’s wrong did she hurt you?” She noticed red hand prints around his neck. 

“No,” he croaked, “she saved me.” 

(#) 

Meera caught up to Gendry and the dog in the yard, the man had managed to catch the animal but it was a near thing. Meera pulled the dagger out, it’s steel glinting in the moonlight. The end of the Three-eyed Raven was swift. 

The end of Gendry’s bewilderment not so much. 

(#) 

Bran sat reading the message that had come in that morning, the march South had been successful. Daenerys had taken control of the Southern kingdom. She was now Queen and Jon was King, they would co-rule together, not as husband and wife, Bran had alerted the new Queen to her relation to her nephew. It would be interesting to see how they fared in this arrangement. 

The message was to tell him that his terms were agreed upon, he was King in the North and they were independent of Southern rule. Though Daenerys did hint that she would be interested should he wish to make a marital alliance with them. This brought a smile to his lips. He had no interest in the older woman. His heart belonged to another. 

He set the missive aside, returning his attention to the letter he’d received from the Neck. Lord Reed was already declaring allegiance to him, the timing was just a bit too perfect. Leading him to suspect that Jojen had dropped a hint or two before he’d left to meet Bran all those years ago.

 

Bran owed so much to the Reed family, his very life even. He had no way to repay them, even if he offered to join their houses through marriage it would be a selfish endeavor. Though he’d already done that, and Lord Reed had given his blessing at the end of the letter, providing that Meera approve of his suit. She had stayed at Winterfell after ridding the world of the Three-eyed Raven, they had become closer than ever after healing their wounds dealt by the menace. 

Bran, once he’d touched the tree hadn’t noticed that he was being warged into. Blood Raven had been clever in that, warging himself into the weirwood tree before the Night King killed him, and waiting for the next time that Bran would touch the tree, trapping the younger in his own head while the older was able to do as he pleased in Bran’s body. Including hurt Meera something he still felt guilty for and likely would for a long time. 

A knock at his solar door interrupted his thoughts, “Come.” 

Gendry Baratheon walked into the room, Arya following closely behind. 

“King Brandon, I-I would like to formally ask your permission for your sister’s hand.” 

Bran looked at the nervous man in front of him, that he used the correct title meant that someone had looked at his message before she handed it to him. He was tempted to call her out on it but instead decided to spare Gendry the agony of awaiting his reply. 

“I had no idea you were interested in Princess Sansa,” Bran said of his elder sister and soon to be the hand of the King. 

“Bran,” Arya warned her eyes narrowing. 

“Sorry I couldn’t resist. As long as Arya agrees I have no problem with you joining our family bastard or not.” He reached out his hand to the stunned smithy. 

Arya gave the girliest sound he’d ever heard her make as Gendry took his hand in a firm shake before he was tackled by her in a hug. 

“Thank you,” she whispered in his ear. Bran smiled, she deserved happiness after everything she’d been through, and if she could find it with Gendry then so be it. 

(#) 

He found Meera seated at a window watching the snow come down, it would still be winter for several more moons, though he wouldn’t be telling anyone that. His dreams were much more controlled now, more like they were before he met with Blood Raven. Left for him to interpret, not be told what they meant. Recently he’d been dreaming of spring and a small wolf pup with green eyes wandering around a blooming godswood. 

“Meera,” he called to her, she turned to look at him a smile on her face as she took in the paper he held.

“Good new I take it, my lord?” 

He nearly rolled his eyes at the formality, the only time he could convince her not to be so formal with him was when they were in his chambers. Though he couldn’t convince her to do more than hold his hand without her Father’s blessing. 

He held out the letter to her. She took it and read it over, her smile slowly becoming larger as she read it. 

“I have something to ask you.” He said when she laid the letter down. 

“Yes.” 

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.” He teased, “I could just want to take a walk.” 

“Stop being cheeky and ask me already.” She said a glint in her green eyes. 

“Lady Reed, if it pleases you would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” 

With that, she stood up and sat on his lap, something he hadn’t been expecting before she placed her lips on his in a kiss. Stunned at the amount of affection he didn’t move waiting for her to pull back before he spoke again. 

“I take it you’re all for it then?” 

“Of course.” She said, grinning from ear to ear. He returned her smile before tentatively reaching up to bring her lips back to his own, fully intending to enjoy kissing her this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Please read and review! Ask questions too I like those. or just leave a kudos those work too!


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